


loved without thought

by gunk



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Cunnilingus, First Time, Other, Reader-Insert, Trans Male Character, reader's gender is unstated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunk/pseuds/gunk
Summary: You and Asher try things out.
Relationships: Asher Mir/Original Character(s), Asher Mir/Reader, Guardian/Asher Mir
Kudos: 7





	loved without thought

There were 6 panels on the door. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. 

When did you start counting?

There were 4 shoes on the floor. One, two. One, two.

You knew that it was a coping mechanism, but that didn’t make it stop.

There was one other person in the room. One. One.

One man who you loved more than anyone else. One man that you’d do anything for. He was in the room with you, taking off his coat, his robotic arm twitching. You tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down, but the image unfolding in front of you was too much. You started to count other things around the room, frantically, but this time Asher seemed to notice.

“Are you feeling alright?”

His voice is crotchedy as ever, harsh and unforgiving. You knew him well enough to know that he only  _ sounded _ that way, and that in these private moments, he was as gentle as you could ever ask for.

“I’m fine.”

You think that maybe you shouldn’t have been so short with him, but he doesn’t seem upset. He  _ hmm _ ’s once and stops undressing, turning his attention to you.

“You do not need to keep things from me. If you are uncomfortable-”

“N-no!” You throw your hands up. “I’m fine! Really!”

He gives you a once-over look, then  _ hmm _ ’s again. He shrugs his shoulder to put his coat on a bit more, and you grab him to stop him. You continue,

“Really. I’m just nervous.”

Being forward seems to have gotten it through to Asher. He nods, and pats you once. It used to feel patronizing, but now it’s come to comfort you. You soften at the touch. Asher goes back to undressing himself, but he clears his throat once as he begins shrugging off his coat.

“Should...I undress you?”

You choke at that, and apparently visibly, as Asher’s eyes widen. He throws up his hands, then speaks again,

“Or not! No pressure. Really, I-”

“No, I’d- I’d like that.”

The words flew out of your mouth without thought. You share a moment of silence, coping with the effects of what you’d just said. Asher stopped undressing himself and averted his eyes, and you repeat the latter action, yourself. You feel your mouth go dry and your hands flex a few times, and you saw Asher evidently going through the same. Finally, he cleared his throat, then turned his attention towards you.

“Understood. I can begin now, if you so choose…”

He trailed off, as if waiting for you to pick up where he had left off. You took the hint.

“You can go ahead.”

You both seem to be in baited breath, both tense as his good hand goes to unbutton your coat. His other hand twitches as it does so frequently, but soon it’s going to your chest. You both know that he can’t feel you with that hand, so you wonder for a moment what the gesture could mean. Is he trying to make you feel comforted, or is he just stabilizing himself against your chest? You know that you can’t be sure, but you still find your mind going down those twisted pathways as he begins to now slide off your coat entirely.

Asher’s breathing is sharp and harsh as he moves to your shirt, and now he pulls away his Vex-addled hand. The questions that you have about why it was there to begin with ignite once again, but they- and  _ any _ thoughts- leave your mind as he begins to undo the buttons of your shirt. You avoid eye contact as his fingers slide over them, but there’s not really much else to look at. You start counting the folds of his undershirt in the absence of anything  _ good _ to look at.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding, and you feel your hands move to his chest without you commanding them consciously to move. You unbutton his shirt, and soon you’re feeling his skin beneath your hands, coat and shirt both shed to the floor. You press yourselves together and feel his body more intensely. He’s very nearly hairless, besides a dusting of arm hair and a tiny ‘happy trail’. Besides the hair, his skin is naturally soft, but not necessarily smooth; he has rough skin and bumps on the bicep area of his good arm, and scars on his chest.

“Is this ok to touch?”

Your fingers hover over his nipples, but your eyes go up to meet Asher’s. He purses his lips.

“Do not expect any reaction, but yes.”

You nod. You briefly run your fingers over his nipples, but you don’t linger there. The scars that lie a bit beneath his nipples tell you- as if his words didn’t- that it’s not the best place to try to get him going. You run your fingers over the scars themselves, too, and Asher actually grabs your hand to guide it to his neck. You nod, then begin to run light fingers over his collarbone on the good side. Asher sighs and curls into the touch a bit.

You whisper into his neck, “Can I go lower?”

Asher swallows hard, then clears his throat once more. “Yes, I suppose.”

The way that he talks, you muse, is nearly comical at times. This would definitely be one of those times. The constant formality, the rigidity- you love it, even when others interpret it as pure rudeness. Sure, sometimes it  _ is _ pure rudeness- a lot of the time, actually- but you love Asher and all of his rough edges. Oysters that carry pearls are closed-off and battered by the elements, but their insides are worth a fortune; you feel that Asher is that way, too.

Before you go lower, you pull him into a kiss, and your hands briefly touch his Vex intrusion. It feels as alien to your touch as you’d expect, cold and trembling. It isn’t just his arm, either, it eats into his side and his abdomen more than you had expected initially. Your eyes hadn’t been able to linger there long enough to pick up on many of the details, but what you did see was enough to shock you. You can’t begin to imagine how Asher must feel to carry that burden, to live with it every day.

You start to count the strands of metal and carbon fiber that make up his arm. You get up to three before you snap out of it, when Asher runs his hand over your shoulder and you jolt back to reality. He looks surprised that you reacted so strongly, and he pulls back, but you nod and push your shoulder against him to show that you appreciated the gesture. For all of the unspoken cues between the two of you, you just hope that you’ve been interpreting them correctly- and that yours have been correctly interpreted.

You start to lower to your knees, pulling his pants down as you go. That’s not an easy task; they’re surprisingly form-fitting, almost like skinny jeans. You giggle a bit at that.

“What? What’s funny?”

“It’s like you’re wearing skinny jeans.”

Asher bends over.

“What? I fail to see how-”

“It was a bad joke.”

“Oh.” He seems unsatisfied, on the border of launching into a rant about exactly why your joke didn’t make sense, why it’s not funny,  _ how _ it’s not funny...he usually had a whole spiel about this sort of thing. Instead, Asher bends back with a huff, and his fingers drum against your shoulder.

He’s wet already, you can tell as soon as your mouth gets close to him. You take in the situation a bit before diving in: he has a large clit, hidden beneath a thick, equally-large hood, and he has uneven but soft-looking lips. You push forwards, and that’s confirmed for you- he is soft. Like his skin, though, it’s soft but not smooth, a bit rough on your tongue as you begin to eat him out.

“Oh!” This time, there’s no pretense of a followup, there’s nothing left hanging. It’s just what it is- an interjection- with nothing preceding or following it. 

You slide your tongue between his lips and then focus on his clit, pushing back the hood with your fingers and then pinching it a bit. You roll it between your fingers and apply pressure, then you move your mouth forwards again to suck it. Asher cries out above you, gripping your hair, but you keep going. You’re driven on by moans that sound so blissfully uncharacteristic of the old Warlock’s personality, licking and sucking and then pinching a bit again to get him worked up. You pull back before he cums, though, looking up at him to speak,

“Do you want more?”

“More  _ what _ ?” He squawks back at you.

“Do you, um- do you want to cum from this?”

“Why do you even need to ask me that!?”

You  _ could _ launch into a speech about consent and boundaries, but instead, you just go back to work. You attack his clit with a vengeance, this time gripping his thighs for traction as you do so. You feel wetness coat your face as you suck on his clit, but you keep going for a bit even as he moans and cries out above you, and even as that wetness starts to grow cold. You want to be sure that he’s had a good time-  _ several _ good times, really.

Finally you pull back, hair strung out from Asher pulling it, and you look up at him.

“Me next?”

You could swear that you see him blushing. “I suppose, yes.”


End file.
